


If We Can Surrender

by Darkhymns



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Sexual Content, Soul Sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 04:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11866245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkhymns/pseuds/Darkhymns
Summary: "Sans said nothing. Instead he reached out to the soul, brought it to rest within his cold palms. He did not wear his gloves this time in his rush to her. Hollow bones balanced that precious thing. It was more fragile than he expected, frailer than he could ever imagine.Perhaps this was wrong, but he couldn’t let go."





	If We Can Surrender

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rw7QqhGRk9Y) by Melody Gardot. (Are you seeing a pattern here?)

They didn’t tell jokes all the time.

“Did you know that snails have tiny, microscopic teeth?” the lady through the door told him. “Just little rows of them, but you wouldn’t get to see them unless you had a specific instrument.”

“bad news for me,” Sans informed her. He kicked back his feet, slippers digging into a nearby snowbank. “i only know how to play one instrument.”

“Let me guess. Is it the trombone?”

He mocked gasped. “wow, and here i thought i was good at keeping secrets. you spying on me, lady?”

“Oh, of course not! I would always value your need for privacy. But it is not my fault that you are just so easy to see through.”

He chuckled, plunking his skull against the door. He was sure she hadn’t even meant to make that joke, and that somehow made it all the more funnier. “you sure got me figured out.”

“I think that after our chats together that I would have figured out your pun preferences by now.”

Well, he knew when he was beaten. He slid further inside his jacket, pressing against the hard stone. He gazed out into the pathway, its sides linked by tall trees that reached far up into the cavernous ceilings. “got any more snail facts to lay on me?”

“Ah, an eager student! Well, here is an interesting one…” He heard her clear her throat, sounding so close to him despite the door’s thickness. “Did you know that a snails’ diet is full of calcium? They do so to get their shells so thick and strong.”

“heh, guess my bro was right about me.”

“Hm?”

“he always said i was like a snail. round… slow…” He dragged out the words, knowing it would a get happy giggle out of her. He stayed silent for a moment, just listening to that sound, how it echoed across the stone walls she must have been enclosed in. “and here i find we have the same kind of diet plan, too. but then again…” he added thoughtfully, “my bro is usually the one drinking the milkshakes. and makes me have some, too.”

“I do hope you follow his example at least some of the time. He sounds like a very knowledgeable brother.”

“heh, yeah, he is.”

She took a while to answer him again. “It’s good to have someone near that cares about you, is it not?”

Before answering in the positive, he noted her voice. That expression… he couldn’t see it, but he could hear the hint of sadness there. It was something very heavy. “he’s just looking out for his lazybones of a bro. i’m a full-time job for him. along with his other full-time job.”

“Still, you are very lucky to have him.”

Didn’t he know it. But her voice was getting rather soft. He strained his non-existent ears for anything else; at perhaps the turn of a page from the ‘101 Snail Facts’ book that she had brought along for their meeting, or the shuffling of her clothes. He couldn’t catch much of anything though.

“hey, uh…” He started to ask, wondering if this might have been pushing it. “are you okay? ya seem a bit down suddenly.”

“Oh. No, no, I am fine.” He heard her take a deep breath, long and drawn out. “I suppose I am just a bit envious. And nostalgic, in a way.”

Sans was careful to not pry too much. It would have been a hassle if he tried to anyway. “i get it. anyone would be jealous of not having papyrus for a brother.”

The laugh she gave him was reassuring. “So I suppose I must keep dreaming then.”

“’fraid so. aw, heck, for you, i can loan ya his brotherly affection sometimes. that way you can get his famous spaghetti.”

“Oh, that sounds promising!”

“i’ll even give ya the spaghetti he made for me.” He’d usually give his share of the food to the little dog that dwelled in their kitchen, but even that furball had its limits.

“I look forward to it.” 

This was usually the moment when he would go back to a pun contest between them, as natural as the snow falling on his skull, building a little snow poff atop it. But the silence stretched too thin, letting terrible ideas slip into his head.

Man, was this a mistake.

“if you want to talk about it, i’m here to listen, ya know.”

The lady behind the door, her voice beyond a threshold that he can’t reach across (at least not through honest means), took a little breath. It was slightly wavy, a coating of nerves that pitched her gentle voice.

He felt warmth there, reminding him of freshly baked pies, of a cozy fireplace, of an empty home piled with furnishings – but nothing else. This wasn’t just in her voice. He felt it, like something he could take out of the air. It made him wonder just what…

“I would not want to bother you with my issues. After all, these little talks of ours are supposed to be fun.”

“lady, i love the jokes, don’t get me wrong. but, besides that, i came here to talk with you.” He shifted in his jacket, the snow continuing to pile on his skull. “whether it’s just shooting the breeze, or anything else.”

“… Do you mean that?”

Despite the usual, he didn’t make light of his answer. “yeah.”

Another pause.

“No,” she told him, and in that tone, he heard finality. “I… I truly would not want to trouble you so. I rather enjoy our silly jokes much more.”

Sans wasn’t sure what he felt then. Disappointed? Bummed out that the mysterious door lady wouldn’t tell the weird loser who started knock-knock jokes in the middle of nowhere about her troubles? Yeah, he probably needed to reevaluate himself.

“alright,” he said back. Then he added, “offer’s still open, if ya ever change your mind,” because he apparently couldn’t let some things go.

Her voice was always so kind. “It is nice to know that I have options.” He heard her shift against the stone, a low sigh coming out of her throat. Hmm, didn’t sound like she was mad or anything. “Would you like to continue from where we last off? Or is the hour getting too late?”

Sans looked up to the sky, or cavern ceiling as it were. No sky here, no stars, no sun, just rocks embedded into a bedsheet of harder, unbreakable stone. “heh, lady, you just love pulling me away from work, don’t you?” She chuckled, a soft sound that could somehow transcend past stone and dust to sift through the thick skull that was his head. “but i guess i can put it off a bit longer just for you…”

* * *

The hour was late when he got home, which was the norm for him.

He expected to find Papyrus still up since, well, his bro just didn’t ever sleep. Not a fan of it apparently. Got in the way of his yoga training and all. Still, when he walked through the front door, he was surprised to find no acrid smoke billowing from the kitchen, or the television blaring with glitter and sequins on its screen.

Before he could call out though, Papyrus beat him to the punch.

“SANS. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? AND DID YOU GET THE MARINARA SAUCE THAT I ASKED FOR?” His brother burst out of his room during mid-sentence, his voice traveling loud enough that no walls would dare restrict his pitch.

But Papyrus was a bit _too_ enthusiastic about rushing to reprimand his lazybones of a sibling. He fell forward over the railing of the second floor, and while the way down wasn’t too far at all, Papyrus, unfortunately, didn’t land as gracefully if he had done the act on purpose. Which, he had at times. For training, of course.

Sans widened his eye sockets a little, but knew that his bro was as tough as they came. Landing right on his face was really the best outcome in this situation. “uh, you okay?”

Then he noticed a little glow, just a couple of feet away from Papyrus’ body. Uh oh.

“yo, papyrus.” Sans waved away the white aura that was emanating, politely turning away. After all, a monster’s soul was private, even if it belonged to his best bro. “don’t go losing yourself like that.”

“NYEH.” The taller skeleton huffed, coolly playing off his earlier mistake. The soul went back in place, beneath his covered ribs, or at least Sans guessed by all the rustling and more mutters of ‘nyeh’ that he heard. “I CANNOT ALWAYS HELP IT. SOMETIMES IT JUST GOES RIGHT THROUGH ME.” A pause. “SANS, WIPE THAT SMILE OFF YOUR FACE.”

“but i’m always smiling.”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT.”

Sans turned back to face him. The glow of the soul was gone, but Papyrus’ emotions still remained in the air. His excitability, his drive for all things cool, his enthusiasm (so much of that, it almost overwhelmed Sans and made him want to just sleep then and there) and his frustration over his brother, as per usual. But there was also the love he held for him as well, tinged with worry, but also plenty of admiration. Aw. He was definitely gonna make fun of his brother for that later on.

That was the thing about monsters, and their souls, in particular. They basically wore their hearts right on their sleeve.

“can’t wait for storytime, bro?” he asked, carrying a jar of pasta sauce that he just happened to have. He was sure the nice bunny gal at the shop wouldn’t mind. “might need to pass on that one. i’m just sore to the bone.”

Papyrus crossed his arms, trying to act all huffy, but he knew his brother was really looking forward to more tales of Fluffy Bunny. There was also more to the crossed arms gesture – trying to hide away the soul that had so easily fell out of his chest, even with his battle body in the way.

Sans decided not to tease him so much then. It’s always a bit frightening when you lose something precious, even for a moment. “but i have no choice anyway. ended last time on a cliffhanger, after all.”

Papyrus uncrossed his arms, looking at Sans with happiness. “YES, YOU DID. FLUFFY BUNNY WAS LEFT ALL ALONE IN THE MEADOW, SEPARATED BY HIS BEST FRIEND, SCRUFFY FOX. WHAT IF THEY NEVER MEET AGAIN???”

Both knew that they did, having gone through the stories ever since their babybones years. Still, it was practically tradition to not know what storytelling turn they would come upon next.

“ALSO, IS THAT THE SAUCE WITH THE WEIRD LOOKING SNAILS ON THE LABEL AGAIN? WHY DO YOU KEEP GETTING ME THESE??”

Sans shrugged. “just remembering how much you said i was like them and all.” He winked. “round and slow, right?”

* * *

When Sans finally went to bed, he had to stop himself for a moment.

Okay, first off, Sans liked to sleep in the nude. Not that weird really, and he only actually did it when he didn’t just plop into bed with snow jacket and basketball shorts still hanging off his frame. But tonight, he remembered his preferences. After throwing his clothes into a pile, just inches away from the constantly self-sustaining trash tornado, he went to lay on the mattress. Bones clacked together as he did so, something that his clothes would always serve to muffle through their thick layers.

Hands behind his skull, it was then something interrupted his thoughts.

Souls were tricky things, weren’t they?

He angled his head down, slightly. Through his ribs, he saw the light of his soul, peeking through openings, sort of like a lava lamp that he just decided to keep within his chest cavity. Most monsters didn’t have their souls so open like this, but skeletons were always lacking in such securities. At the very least, it made it easy to get the soul out if he ever needed to.

But then he saw no outcome when he would ever need to.

His jackets were snug to make sure the soul stayed in place, and he barely moved unless he needed to. It was an excuse he told Papyrus long ago, when his brother tried to get Sans to come train with him and Undyne.

“no thanks. don’t want to let myself go. you okay doing that though?”

It got the necessary embarrassment from Papyrus, the stomping foot, the humph he gave before rushing off to meet his best friend. But still, that was a general worry for Sans. He had just seen it today. It’s so easy for skeletons like him and Papyrus to fall head over heels – and not just literally.

Both emotions and magic were tied together, and so Sans held his own back. No need for anyone to read his own expressions, but he could read others when he needed to. Well, unless they were a moldsmal and had no discernible features. Or were wearing a mask.

Or behind a door.

Souls were precious things, and monsters kept theirs hidden close. Even in death, they kept it hidden, instantly fading away before anyone could have a chance to grasp it, except for unlucky Boss Monsters. But when still alive, a monster could summon their soul, showing it to those that they trusted dearly. Sort of like trusting someone to hold your wallet.

Sans patted a hand against his rib cage, the dull clack of his metacarpals echoing around his room. There had been scary instances, like that one time where it nearly fell through his pelvis because of a, uh, workplace accident. Or that time it almost shot straight up into his jaw – also workplace related. It was sort of the reason why he decided to go job-hunting soon after for a more cushy position.

All of them had been accidents though. He never showed his soul willingly to anyone. Just because other monster souls were made of love, mercy and compassion, didn’t mean his was up to standards.

Best to keep that kind of secret to yourself.

With his wrinkled blanket just barely covering his legs, he let the darkness of the room invade his skull. The soft _whish_ of the self-sustaining tornado provided the perfect white noise for his sleep.

But then he had to stop.

He remembered.

Sans shot up in his bed, wondering suddenly how he missed it. He placed his hand against his ribs once again, the light – of blue, of white, of nothing at all – pulsing through him, feeling his sudden rush of adrenaline.

The lady behind the door.

Maybe this was too far.

Sans left his bed, almost took a shortcut before remembering to at least put his pants on. He dug through his dirty laundry, finding the same clothes he had just discarded. It took a moment longer to remember where the sleeves of his jacket were, and that his shorts didn’t go on his head. (Hey, his skull was starting to feel chilly). Eventually, he was more-or-less dressed.

Would she still be there?

He took a step forward and found himself facing that great door, it’s stone so wide and impassive. That familiar symbol perched above its frame, cut into the work, where some stray snowflakes had found their home, never in danger of melting away. He once wanted to know where all this snow really came from. A natural occurrence in the Underground? A result of the work within the Core?

He heard shifting from beyond the door. Soft, secretive, shameful.

Sans knocked.

A soft gasp, so very frightful – almost in tears. It squeezed at his ribs, so uncomfortable against the rush of his beating soul. “W-who’s there?”

It pays to go back to tradition – at least for a little while. “dishes.”

A brief moment, then he heard laughter. Not too loud, or even too brave, but it was there for him, and then he was able to let go of some of his discomfort.

She said back to him, “I apologize. I ruined your joke.”

“s’okay. we both know how it goes anyway.” He leaned his back against the stone, his weak bones supported by its strength. “hoped you’d still be here. wanted to ask you something actually.”

“Yes?”

The fear was there again in her voice, and he wanted desperately to tell her that it was okay. That sometimes you just lost yourself, head over heels, and there was nothing much you can do but hope the fall won’t hurt. But he knew if he said all that, she would move away, retreating into that place he couldn’t go to without breaking a few rules. And the lady, it seemed, appreciated those rules. He would not disrespect her like that.

“did you want to show me something before?”

If he could read her expression, he would find that familiar fear. And something so sad and melancholy. That’s the thing with monsters – they wore their hearts on their sleeves, so much that maybe it didn’t even really matter if you couldn’t see them face-to-face.

“So… you are aware of what I was doing.”

He didn’t answer fast enough, and he knew he just gave her the perfect ammo to use on herself.

“I’m so sorry. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“you didn’t. promise.” He searched his thoughts. What did he want to achieve here? Had he always wanted something like this? In all those timelines long gone? “and i mean it’s okay if you…”

He pictured her in front of him; formless and grand, as she had a voice that spoke of a class way, way above him. He pictured kind eyes and soft hands, and cheeks so used to tears. He pictured a smile that he had dreamed about, matching that voice he would bring with him to bed, like a sinful secret.

He pictured, in her hands, a soft, low, but very warm light. Like a flame that she held within her palms. But it was something else, of a shape he personally knew and wanted to know more about if he could.

Then, with little surprise, a soul hovered before him. It looked very lonely.

“I-” He heard the voice behind him whisper, breathless. She softly panted, and in that excitement, was that soft note of terror. “I did not mean to… I am just…”

_She misses this._

Sans said nothing. Instead he reached out to the soul, brought it to rest within his cold palms. He did not wear his gloves this time in his rush to her. Hollow bones balanced that precious thing. It was more fragile than he expected, frailer than he could ever imagine.

Perhaps this was wrong, but he couldn’t let go.

“you could’ve just asked me, you know.”

Fear slowly began to disintegrate, followed by a gratefulness that he didn’t really deserve. “But you do not even know my name.”

“do i need to?” he said. He brought her soul nearer, that precious part of her that she had summoned for him. Monsters were made of magic, and their souls were of pure magic through and through. He felt her hesitance, something that trembled. He couldn’t help but picture that same form from before, shivering at a touch from his hands.

She whispered to him. “My friend…”

“this is kinda new to me. well… at least, like this.” A finger trailed over the shape, and her voice got low, soft, rumbling through his bones. “soul play has always been a bit uh, intimidating.”

He pressed his skull against the door, hearing her shift. She could be of any shape, of any size. She could be a giant, or a small thing like him. She could be of bones, or scales, or fur. She could be something intangible altogether. Monsters always had variety like that, but their souls – they all had a similar shape, something that bound them all together.

He opened his mouth.

“Do not feel you need to-” But her words ended in a sharp gasp, shocked and pleased and shameful all at once. Maybe it was the graze of teeth, or the conjured memories of a tongue, pale imitations and nothing more. Maybe it was the delicate squeeze of his fingers, searching for a hidden meaning within the crevices. His breath moved against it, and he pictured that form that was her, shapeless and not, arch from the action. And the soft moan that drifted through the door told him all he knew.

If it made her feel better, he would do this and more. But there was something else, something selfish, and he could not deny that her taste was more than pleasant for him. That it made him feel like something worthwhile.

It ended quick. She let out another soft moan and gasp that shook him to the core. His soul beat against his ribs, against his sternum, and he controlled that urge by giving another squeeze around her soul. She writhed from his touch, and he wanted to give her a kiss just then, but wondered if that was a line he shouldn’t cross. Still he held her, supple against his palms, and waited for her nerves to relax.

He could barely hear her when she spoke. “I never expected… for this to happen.”

Sans could say the same, but he didn’t, and instead went with, “why not? i’m quite a charmer. girls always like a guy that makes ‘em laugh.”

She was trying to catch her breath, and he imagined her covered in sweat, clothes askew, eyes looking up at him with that warm, familiar glow. And in that vision, she smiled, letting a small laugh escape her throat. “Thank you, my friend.” She reached out to him.

He did not know for sure that she did, but he could feel it. The soul he held told him so much – the books that needed re-arranging, the cinnamon spice she still needed to get for her next baking session, the toys that needed dusting – and there was sadness and grief, overwhelmed by happier memories that were so far away, too far away to ever get back. Because some choices could not be taken back, no matter the pain it brought.

It was the heart on her sleeve, exposed to him in all its contours, one that he had tasted and held onto. Could he do the same thing? He can’t do the same thing. He could not give anything back to her – there was nothing to give in the first place.

That’s what skeletons like him were; devoid of most of everything, his mercy shattered, his compassion limited, and his love shared with only very few.

He loved this nameless woman. Why else would he be here?

Still holding onto her, he gave her his own. It passed through his spine and through the door – like magic.

It was a moment before he felt great hands take his soul, holding him so securely. They were soft hands, made of fur. Well, that was one feature down.

“My friend,” she said to him. They both sat on the ground, leaning against that door, as exposed to the other as they ever could be. “I do not want you to be lonely either.”

He had nothing to say to that. Instead he pressed her soul against his chest, the closest to an embrace they would both ever get.

Heat spread across him, all over him, and something wet. Sans shivered, fingers digging gently, and she responded with another sound and another touch. And maybe this was strange, for how can you share such secret things of yourselves when you could not even see the other’s face before you?

But Sans wanted just this much. This was enough. This was all he could handle. And as she took him in her mouth, he sunk into the snow. She had such a nice voice, and he hoped to continue discovering that sliding pitch of her's, long before morning.


End file.
